


He's a.....Wait, what?

by Sabene4511



Series: So Many Revelations [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scientific paranormal AU, can be read as a stand-alone, some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabene4511/pseuds/Sabene4511
Summary: Mac is badly injured on a mission and Jack learns a secret his partner has been hiding.Formerly Blood Secrets 2.0This story takes place during Season 1, roughly January/February of 2017.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so some of you may have already read this when I first posted Blood Secrets. And I almost just edited the original posting to make it part 2 of the series. However, I decided that the original Blood Secrets was actually 2 completely different stories that should have been separated. So if you've read this before, you will notice that chapters 4 and 5 are not here...they'll be added under a different title later in the series where they should have been. 
> 
> Update 7-20-19: When I altered my original story Blood Secrets slightly to make it a series, I left the title the same and just added the 2.0 part. I think that may have been confusing to some people, so I've changed the title of the series version to this. The original 5 chapter Blood Secrets is still posted.

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**Chapter 1**

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Everything happens so fast, as usual. Getting in is easy. Mac rigging the remote hideout to blow is easy. Downloading the database is easy. But as soon as Mac unplugs the flash drive Riley had devised, all hell breaks loose. Alarms go off everywhere. Guards seem to be coming out of the woodwork.

 

“Where the hell are they coming from?!” Jack yells to no one in particular.

 

“It won’t matter if you don’t get yourselves out of there in the next 5 minutes. Before the building explodes,” Matty responds sharply.

 

Mac’s response is a little more helpful. “We need to get to the end of this corridor and make a right, Jack. The exit is off that hallway.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack watches his partner put the flashdrive in the front pocket of his jeans.

 

“Alright let’s go, brother!” Jack says, as he pulls open the next door and takes out two more guards. After several tense minutes, they burst through the exit door into the bright sunshine.

 

“We need to get to those trees to be completely out of the blast range,” Mac states.

 

“Nothing to do but run for it then.”

 

“You have less than 2 minutes, guys.” Jack hears Matty say in his ear.

 

Mac and Jack start to run for the tree line 40 feet away when gunfire sounds above them. Jack spins around and takes down the guard on the roof and turns to start running again when his heart freezes in his chest. Mac is down, not moving.

 

“Mac? MAC!” Jack drops next to his friend before deciding he doesn’t have time. If he doesn’t move him, they’re going to die. He grabs Mac and slings him over his shoulder and heads for the trees as fast as he can. He’s only a few feet away when the building goes up. He stumbles, but manages to keep his feet and move into the cover of the trees.

 

Matty’s voice sounds in his ear again. “You guys okay?”

 

“NO!” Jack yells. “Mac is hit. How long till exfil gets here?”

 

“30 minutes. How bad is it?”

 

“I don’t know yet. Hang on.”

 

Jack has Mac on the ground and is checking for a pulse. He sighs with relief when he finds one and looks for the offending wounds, trying to rouse him.

 

“Mac? Can you hear me buddy? I need you to wake up, man. Mac!”

 

He finds the wound. The bullet went through the fabric at the very top of the vest. Mac must have turned to look, just like he had. Removing the vest and opening Mac’s shirt he curses at what he sees.

 

“Matty, you need to get exfil here faster. Mac doesn’t have 30 minutes. The bullet is awfully close to his heart and his pulse is starting to get weaker already. I...I think his chest is filling with blood.”

 

“Jack, I told exfil to expedite but it’ll still take almost 20 minutes.”

 

Jack is trying hard not to panic as he says “He probably has less than 10.”

 

Seconds tick by like hours as Jack gazes down at his _way-too-young_ friend. “You gotta hang in there, Mac. Please. I can’t lose you.” Tears sting his eyes as he pushes a stray lock of hair from Mac’s forehead.

 

“Jack.” Matty sounds strained and far more hesitant than he has ever heard her sound. “There is a way to save him, but you’re going to have to trust me _completely_ and do exactly as I say, without question.”

 

Jack doesn’t even pause. “What do I do?”

 

“You need to understand the risk, Jack. If anything goes wrong, you will die in the next few minutes.”

 

“You mean Mac will.” Jack chokes on the words.

 

“No Jack. You will. Mac will kill you and he won’t even realize it until he wakes up.”

 

He still doesn’t even think about it. “Losing him would kill me anyway. What do I do?”

 

“If this works, he’s going to be furious with me for telling you and furious with you for doing it, but here goes. Take off his belt. Use it to restrain his hands behind his back as tightly as you can. It’s better to cut off circulation for a few minutes than risk him getting loose.”

 

Though already confused, Jack does as he’s told.

 

“Lay him on his back, on top of his hands. You’re going to have to sit on top of him. One knee by each of his shoulders. Use your legs to keep his arms pinned at his sides. Remove the leather cuff from your left wrist.”

 

Even more confused, he obeys. He’ll do whatever he has to no matter how strange or dangerous, if it means Mac will make it home alive. “What next?”

 

“I’m going to tell you the last few steps, but don’t do anything until I finish because it will have to be done fast.”

 

“Understood.”

 

He can hear Matty take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You are going to take out your knife and cut your left wrist. Not across the wrist but upwards, toward your elbow, about 2 inches long. The cut needs to be deep enough to bleed freely, but not so deep that it causes nerve damage. Then open his mouth and put the cut to it.”

 

“Wait, I’m _feeding_ him my blood?!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Matty, I’m no doctor, but I don’t think that’s how blood transfusions work.”

 

Another deep breath, “It is for a vampire.”

 

Jack sits in stunned silence for several seconds before anger boils out of him. “Really! This is not the time for jokes! Mac is dying!”

 

“It’s not a joke. It’s actually a blood disorder, but that’s the medical term for his condition. Understand, as soon as your blood hits his tongue, he is going to fight you and try to throw you off of him. You _must not_ let him. What he’ll actually be trying to do is get hold of your arm to keep it there. If he succeeds, he will not let go and he will not stop drinking until you’re dead.”

 

Jack scrunches his face in confused disbelief. “Can’t I just pull my arm away?”

 

“He is way too strong for you to do that Jack, especially when his body is desperate. This is how his mother died. There was no illness or accident. That’s a lie that was manufactured to protect him from prejudice in the community. She tried to do what you’re about to do and he killed her. He was only 5 years old and she wasn’t strong enough to pull her arm away. It was an accident, but it nearly destroyed him. He hasn’t drunk from a living person since. If he kills you now, it will shatter him and there won’t be any putting him back together. For both of your sakes, you _cannot_ let him get a hold of you.”

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Yes, and you’re running out of time.”

 

Jack quickly checks Mac’s pulse again, she’s right. His heart is struggling. Jack pulls out his knife, pausing long enough to say “I trust you, Mac.” Then he digs the knife into his wrist.

 

Jack hisses in pain as blood begins to flow. Shoving the knife back into its sheath, he puts his right hand on the ground above Mac’s head and braces himself as steadily as possible. He puts the bleeding wound to Mac’s mouth and in seconds, Mac’s eyes snap open and he tries to buck Jack off him, straining to free his hands. Jack fights to hold his ground, startled when he looks at his best friends eyes.

 

“The white part of his eyes have turned red!”

 

“Ignore it, it’s normal. As soon as you start feeling dizzy, light headed or nauseated, you need to pull your arm away. You don’t need to give him enough to heal him. Just enough to buy him some time for exfil to arrive. Plus, you need to have the strength to protect him if any of the guards made it out before the building exploded.”

 

“Copy.”

 

Mac is still fighting and Jack suddenly realizes his head is swimming. He pulls his wrist back and Mac goes nuts. Jack has to brace both hands on Mac’s shoulders to hold him. Slowly, Mac calms, his eyes looking less frantic, though still red.

 

“Okay, I think he’s coming around.”

 

“Take a small amount of his blood on your finger and wipe it on the cut on your wrist. Just a heads up, it’s going to burn.”

 

“It won’t turn me?”

 

“Infect, and no. It’s not nearly enough.”

 

It feels creepy dipping his finger into Mac’s blood, but Jack shrugs it off as he realizes it’s not the strangest thing he’s done in the last few minutes. Just as he spreads the blood over his wrist, he hears a soft voice below him.

 

“J-Jack?”

 

The response he plans to give his partner is cut off by a searing pain, like someone has placed a red hot poker on his wrist.

 

“Aaaaaaahh! Hooooooly shit! That fucking hurts! God dammit!!”

 

The pain stops as quickly as it started. And Jack huffs out several ragged breaths and looks at his wrist. The cut is scabbed over and half healed. His attention returns to Mac as he hears the blonde speak again.

 

“What did you do?”

 

“Mac? Hey buddy! How’re you feeling?”

 

Mac licks his lips and Jack realizes some of his blood is still there. Mac’s eyes go wide in shock and he starts screaming, “What the hell did you do?!”

 

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I just saved your life!”

 

“Get off me, Jack! Get off!” Mac has started struggling again, trying to get loose.

 

“It’s okay, Jack. You can let him go.” Jack has almost forgotten Matty is listening. “Mac, you have to calm down so Jack can untie your hands.”

 

Mac freezes as he hears Matty’s voice. “Matty...you didn’t. Please, please, tell me you didn’t.”

 

“I didn’t have a choice, Mac. You wouldn’t have survived until exfil arrived.”

 

“No!! You had no right!” Jack finishes untying his hands and Mac immediately scrambles away from him, standing and backing several feet away against a large maple tree. “You had no right! You had no right!” He repeats it over and over, getting quieter each time as he slides down the tree to sit at its base.

 

Jack slowly approaches Mac, not wanting to anger him more. “Mac?”

 

“How could you?” Mac says quietly.

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes you. How could you do that?”

 

“How could I what? Save you?”

 

“Risk your life!”

 

“I risk my life every day, Mac. For this job, for this country, occasionally for the world, but above all else, for you! There’s nothing in the whole damn world I wouldn’t do for you, Mac! I would lie cheat, steal, beg, torture, take a bullet, kill, or die for you, man! Most of which I have _already_ done at least once! A little bit of blood? Bud, that ain’t nothing!”

 

Jack looks down at the stunned look on his partner’s face and takes a slow breath to calm himself. He squats in front of Mac, putting a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Tell me you know that. Tell me you know you don’t have to hide _anything_ from me, Mac.”

 

Mac looks down, and Jack simply waits for him to speak. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to know. It’s that I never wanted you to do what you just did. Never.”

 

Mac is still staring at his knees, which he is now starting to wrap his arms around, closing himself off.

 

“No no, no you don’t, Mac. None of that.” Jack slides up next to him and puts his left arm around his shoulders, holding firm when Mac tries to move away again. “Nice try. Come here, brother.”

 

Jack pulls him closer, resting his cheek against blonde hair. Mac still seems stunned, hesitant.

 

“How? How can you...I just _drank your blood_ , Jack!”

 

Jack chuckles. “Not gonna lie, that was weird.” Even Mac laughs softly at that. “But if you’re asking why I’m not afraid of you or some stupid bullshit like that, I’m just gonna roll my eyes at you, kid. You could grow 3 extra heads, sprout wings, and start breathing fire and I’d still be here for you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that. At some point, you _are_ going to have to walk me through the whole list of ‘truth vs. Hollywood,’ like how the whole sunlight thing is clearly bogus. But for now, I’m just beyond glad you ain’t dead.”

 

He feels Mac release a trembling breath and relax into him as they both begin to hear the faint _thump, thump, thump_ of a chopper approaching.

 

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2**

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Mac is taken into immediate surgery to remove the bullet by Dr. Lewis, who meets the helicopter on the roof. Jack had always wondered why she seems to be the only doctor to take care of Mac when he’s _really_ hurt. Looks like that mystery may finally have been solved. Jack sits in the waiting room staring at his wrist. The scab has already fallen off.

 

“How are you?”

 

He bolts from his seat and takes a startled step away, fists raised instinctively for a fight. “Geez, Matty. I didn’t even hear you come in! I can’t believe I let you sneak up on me.”

 

She nods. “I’m pretty sure you have a lot on your mind right now.”

 

Jack sits back down, slowly shaking his head. “I just can’t believe I didn’t know. I didn’t even suspect...anything! I’m thinking back on all the times he got hurt, wondering how I never noticed anything strange. Though, I suppose this is why he has such a high pain tolerance...hmm...and why sedatives and pain-killers don’t work well on him?”

 

Matty smiles “We shouldn’t talk about this here. The two of us and Dr. Lewis are the only ones in Phoenix who know. This is one of the most critically classified things you’ve ever been read in on. At least on a personal level, his life has _never_ been more in your hands.”

 

He nods absently as she turns to leave before she stops, remembering something.

 

“And don’t tell him I told you about his mother unless you have to. It will only upset him even more.”

 

He nods again and leans back to wait for news on his partner.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dr. Lewis keeps Mac in medical for 3 days before allowing Jack to take him home. As always, Jack stays by Mac’s bed, sleeping in the chair, talking to him, picking on him and gently running his fingers through Mac’s hair to comfort him when Dr. Lewis changes the bandage on the quickly healing wound. As Matty advised, he doesn’t talk about what happened, but Mac keeps shooting him confused glances when he thinks he isn’t looking.

 

When she finally clears him to leave, Dr. Lewis prescribes the normal pain meds and antibiotics she would to anyone who was shot and Jack fills the prescriptions with the lovely nurse up front while Mac changes his clothes.

 

The ride to Mac’s house is quiet, until Jack can’t take it anymore, “So, do you actually need these pills?”

 

“No, not really. Sometimes the pain meds help a little, but my body burns them off too fast to really be effective. Janet only gives them to me because if she doesn’t, people may get suspicious, or at least ask questions that are difficult to answer, especially around people that are trained to spot a lie. I flush the pills or throw them away whenever I’m _supposed_ to take them. But they won’t hurt me if you or Bozer get _insistent_ about me taking them right in front of you.”

 

Mac looks at him out of the corner of his eye again and Jack shakes his head, “Man, you really need to stop looking at me like I’m about to bolt any second.”

 

“How is this _not_ freaking you out?”

 

“First and foremost, because it’s you, Mac. You’re the same person I knew last week, a man I trust with my life. My best friend, my little brother, nothing I _ever_ learn about you changes that. Second, I don’t really even understand what’s going on. I mean, Matty said vampire, but she also said it’s a blood disorder. It almost sounds like they just got lazy naming it.”

 

“I’m called a vampire because I need blood from other humans to survive and drinking it is a viable way for me to get it. There are other elements that kind of fit too, but that’s the main reason.”

 

They pull up to Mac’s house and Jack shuts off the engine. Mac suddenly looks nervous as he says, “Are you coming in?”

 

“Did you seriously ask me that after what I _just_ said to you? Look at me,” Jack leans right in close to Mac, “You paying attention? Cuz this is the third time in a week I’ve had to lay this out for you, and the third time better be the damn charm!”

 

Mac looks right into Jack’s eyes, searching for who-knows-what.

 

“I’m not leaving you. EVER. Not by choice and not without a hell of a fight. I go where you go, remember? Even if it’s down the rabbit hole into bizarro world. I promise you, brother, I will help you paint the white roses red.”

 

Mac seems satisfied with whatever he sees, but quietly says, “Promise me something else.” Jack just raises his eyebrows in question. “Never risk doing that again.”

 

Jack releases an exaggerated sigh. “How about this, we go inside and order pizza for lunch? You and I can sit down and you can explain the reality of all this to me. Then I will _think_ about making that promise. Deal?”

 

Mac huffs out a breath and shakes his head, then shrugs. “Okay. Fair enough. Except I’m going to take a shower while we’re waiting for the pizza. Then we eat, then we talk.”

 

Jack chuckles, “Deal.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Lunch is quiet and a little tense. Both men are relieved when the food is cleared away and they sit back down on the couch, turned to face each other. Jack is the first to speak.

 

“All right, let’s dive into this. Just remember, I’m not a doctor, so no nine syllable words, kay?”

 

Mac laughs lightly. “I’ll try to keep the technical stuff as simple as possible, but I will have to get into it a little.” Mac lets out a deep breath. “I guess the best way to start is to tell you that this disease is very, very rare. So there is _a lot_ we don’t know about it. Your wrist for example. We _sort of_ know how wounds heal in _my_ body, but how does a small amount of my blood heal a cut like that on _you_ ? And why does it _burn_ so badly? We have no idea.

 

“We also don’t know what causes it. In many ways, it acts like a virus, so that’s what we tend to call it. The problem is, you can see a virus under a microscope -how big it is, it’s shape, it’s features. We can’t even find this. So we don’t actually know that it’s a virus. It might be bacteria or a parasite. It could also be purely genetic. There is _some_ evidence that there’s at least a genetic component, even if it’s just an immunity or susceptibility. But, for lack of a better term, I’m going to call it a virus.

 

“It’s easier to see the effects of it. Matty called it a blood disorder and she’s partially correct. It’s actually a lot more than that, but it does cause a type of anemia, which is a reduction of healthy red blood cells. The job of red blood cells is to carry oxygen from the lungs to the rest of the body. When your kidneys detect a low blood oxygen level, they release a hormone called EPO. That hormone tells your bone marrow to make more red blood cells. You with me so far?”

 

“Yeah, but you’re startin’ to make my brain hurt.”

 

Mac chuckles, “I’m almost done with the biology lesson, I promise. Anyway, it’s that hormone that this virus seems to effect. We don’t know if it’s preventing my kidneys from releasing it in the first place or somehow destroying it afterward. But either way, my body produces almost no red blood cells. I have to get them from someone else.”

 

“Hence, drinking blood.”

 

“Yes. I can also get it through an IV, but that’s a lot slower. I’m not laying in a bed in medical with a needle in my arm for 10-15 minutes when I can drink it in less than one.”

 

“Okay, but how does _that_ work? Most people who swallow too much blood get sick, right? You obviously don’t.”

 

“What makes people feel nauseated is the way stomach acid reacts to blood, but in me it’s entirely absorbed in my mouth and throat and never reaches my stomach.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Yeah. There are other things that this virus does. It can be summed up by saying that it makes my body far more efficient in pretty much every way. Even in _normal_ people, digestion starts in the mouth when you chew. Your mouth even starts absorbing nutrients from food. That’s why some medications or illicit drugs can be taken by liquid drops under the tongue. My body just absorbs more and faster.

 

“It also makes better use of what I eat. Normally, there’s a limit to how much of a nutrient the human body can take in. The rest is wasted and leaves your body when you use the bathroom. My body can hold onto and use more. Less is wasted. That’s why I don’t eat as much as you and Bozer think I should. Same thing with sleep. My body makes more efficient use of energy and periods of rest. So I only need to sleep 3-4 hours a night and I’m fine. Whereas most people need 7-9 hours.”

 

“That’s pretty cool...though now I feel kind of bad for hounding you to eat and sleep more. What other super-powers you got? Can you pick a car up over your head or something?” Jack asks with a grin.

 

Mac laughs. “No. Nothing that extreme. I’m only about twice as strong as I should be for my build and muscle mass, it’s not magic. My body just makes better use of energy, as well as oxygen, and it has more to use since my lungs are also more efficient. Your lungs only absorb about 25% of the oxygen you inhale. My lungs take in closer to 40%. So my muscles have more fuel for strength and they don’t get tired easily for the same reason, energy and oxygen.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait. That’s bullshit! I’ve seen you run distance and I’ve seen you in the gym, man. You get tired like everybody else and you can’t lift twice as much weight as you should.”

 

Mac is already smiling and shaking his head before Jack is halfway through.

 

“Don’t shake your head at me, I’ve seen it with my own eyes!”

 

“I learned real quick and real young, Jack, that if I don’t _act_ winded and tired, people will look at me funny. I remember the first time it happened, I was six and we had to run laps in gym class. Everyone else was panting at the end, laying in the grass trying to catch their breath and I was just standing there like I hadn’t even moved. Even the teacher gave me a weird look. It was the first time I felt really _other_. As for the weights? I know what I can actually lift. I just cut it in half and act like I’m struggling when I’m not alone.”

 

“Well, shit. That means you’re actually stronger than me?” Mac flinches and looks at him apologetically. “Wait, you’ve been going easy on me when we spar!”

 

Mac now looks truly contrite. “I’m sorry. I don’t want t -” Mac freezes halfway through the sentence and claps a hand to his mouth.

 

It’s Jack’s turn to flinch. “You don’t want to hurt me.”

 

Mac closes his eyes and groans out a breath. “Jack...I…”

 

“Nope, don’t even. You know what? I’m trying real hard to be annoyed that you’ve been treating me with kid gloves,” he starts laughing, “but this is too damn cool!”

 

Mac looks up apparently relieved that he hasn’t completely offended the Delta and starts to chuckle along with him.

 

When Jack continues, it’s with a little more seriousness. “You realize, the next time we spar? It’s on, man. I’ll make sure no one else is around, and we’re both gonna stop holding back so much.”

 

Mac sighs and looks at him. “It won’t do any good to argue with you, will it?”

 

“No good what-so-ever. What else you got? Oooo, wait, is this thing the reason your big ole brain is so big?”

 

Mac laughs again. “You truly have a unique way of phrasing things, you know that?”

 

Jack grins. “Just part of my charm. So, is it?”

 

Mac makes a face that says ‘sort of’. “That’s really hard to say for sure. There’s so much we don’t know about the human brain under _normal_ circumstances. To try to say how much this virus effects it or in what way would be nearly impossible. Though it does seem clear that it substantially improves memory and memory recall.”

 

Jack’s face lights up. “What about fangs?! Tell me you get to have fangs, man.”

 

Mac just rolls his eyes. “No, Jack. Sorry to disappoint you, but no fangs. Though that myth does actually have a history we can trace.”

 

“Wait. What?”

 

“Unfortunately, yes. A couple hundred years ago, someone with this disease decided to _really_ embrace it. Of course back then there were no IV blood transfusions. So, they had to kill to survive. Most were hermits and nomads, but this guy decided to start a cult. He filed a couple of his teeth into points so he didn’t have to carry a weapon, and some of his followers followed suit. The cult initiation was to attempt infection. If you were _worthy_ you would be infected and saved. If you were not worthy, you died.”

 

“How did he actually decide who was infected?”

 

“He didn’t, the virus does. It’ll be easier for me to explain if I use you and me as an example.”

 

“Go for it.”

 

“In order for me to infect you, I would need to drink your blood until your heart stops. Then I’d have to feed you a roughly equal amount from me.”

 

“Sounds simple enough.”

 

“Here’s the tricky part. My blood acts sort of like a defibrillator to your system, jump starting your heart again. However, just like a defibrillator, it doesn’t always work. The heart won’t start again. Usually in autopsy, they can tell why a defibrillator didn’t work, not so with this disease. They have yet to find a common thread. I told you earlier that there might be a genetic component, something in my DNA that allowed me to be infected or that prevented infection in someone else.

 

“But it doesn’t have to be genetic. It could be environmental. Maybe it’s because I ate a banana less than an hour before and the extra potassium allowed the virus to take hold. Or maybe it was the flowers in the backyard I was playing in or something in the laundry detergent my clothes were washed in. We don’t know.

 

“When I was infected, my mother spent _hours_ being interviewed by the CDC. They wanted to know everything I ate, drank, or came in contact with. Every person I came in contact with. They spent over a week doing an exhaustive inventory of our house. They took samples of every chemical, every carpet, the furniture upholstery, curtains, _everything_. The only thing we know for sure is the survival rate: 51% of people survive and are infected, 49% of people die.”

 

Jack whistles. “That’s one hell of a coin toss, brother.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m not really sure I want the answer to this next question.” Mac just waits quietly while Jack works up his nerve. “What um...what about long-term? Is...is it…”

 

He can’t finish, but Mac gets the jist. “Is it terminal?” Jack swallows hard and gives a curt nod. “No. Not as long as I can get the blood I need.” Jack visibly relaxes. “As for life expectancy, we have no idea. There’s one other major effect of this virus’s ability to create biological efficiency -agelessness.”

 

“Agelessness? Hold on, you were just talking about your mom being there and learning to act _normal_ when you were six. Which means you were infected when you were really little. Clearly, you’ve aged since then. Hell, you’ve physically aged since _I_ met you.”

 

“I was 3 when I was infected and I’ve aged pretty much normally since then, but I’ll stop aging soon, if I haven’t already. The virus guides the body to peak efficiency, but it doesn’t happen overnight. Each person reaches their physical peak somewhere around age 30. Their body has stopped improving, growing and getting stronger, but before it begins declining toward old age. It’s that plateau where this virus holds us frozen in time.”

 

Jack stares at Mac for a few seconds, processing what he’s just been told. “Wait...so...you’re gonna be 30 _forever_?”

 

“Theoretically.”

 

Jack’s eyes bug. “How?”

 

“Physical aging and decline are caused by a lot of different things, but it really boils down to cellular fatigue. The cells in your body replicate themselves over and over and over again throughout your lifetime. Well, after 30 years or so, they start getting tired. They start replicating slower and making mistakes. That’s what causes metabolism to start slowing down in your thirties. It causes wrinkles, balding, arthritis, osteoporosis, declining vision and hearing. It causes many of the mental issues of old age too -forgetfulness, confusion, dementia, Alzheimer’s. All of it. Eventually, the cells make enough mistakes that organs begin failing, and death is the result. With the efficiency of this virus, my cells won’t get tired.”

 

“What about someone like me? I’m already passed 30. Will it just...not work.”

 

Mac chuckles. “Oh you’re gonna love this. No. You would have the same coin toss as anyone else, and _if_ you survive, your cells would begin to guide your body to its most efficient state.”

 

“In English, Mac.”

 

“You’re 41, so it would take about 11 years, but day by day, you would age _backwards_ until your body was about 30 years old again. Then it would stay there.”

 

Jack cracks up laughing. “Woo hoo hoo! Damn! Where do I sign up, brother! Let’s do this!”

 

The expression on Mac’s face seems a cross between terror and anger. “That’s never going to happen. I will _not_ do this to you.”

 

Mac is off the couch and pacing the floor by the time Jack really registers that he moved. Then he notices that Mac is shaking and the laughter dies in his throat as Mac’s words filter into his mind. Clearly there’s something Mac hasn’t told him yet and he’s immediately sorry. He gets up and intercepts Mac on his next turn, gently putting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.

 

“Hey, hey. Mac, I’m sorry. I got carried away, that’s all. I’m sorry. I just...everything about this you’ve told me just sounds pretty awesome.”

 

“There are down-sides, Jack.”

 

“Okay, then let’s talk about those.”

 

He guides Mac to the couch and they sit back down. Jack makes sure to sit close enough that he can touch Mac if he needs to. He has no idea what Mac’s going to tell him, but he wants to be able to offer comfort. Mac doesn’t look at him, talking to his hands folded in his lap instead.

 

“You don’t really understand what this is like, Jack. You can’t. I live in constant fear that someone...the _wrong_ someone...is going to find out about me, and they’ll either kill me as some kind of freak or monster -or worse, I’ll be locked in a cage in some lab for the rest of my existence while they try to figure out what makes me tick.”

 

“That’s never gonna happen, buddy. Not while I’m around.”

 

“There’s more.” Mac takes a slow deep breath. “What am I going to do, Jack? Twenty years from now, what am I going to do? When I’m almost 50 years old and I still look 30? I won’t be able to stay here, if I can even stay _that_ long. I’ll have to leave Phoenix, probably California, maybe the country. Start over somewhere with a new identity. And I’ll have to _keep_ moving every 10-15 years when people start to notice. What kind of life is that? _Never_ being able to settle.

 

“What about a family? Do I drag my wife around with me every 10 years hoping she doesn’t become the angry _ex_ -wife who sells my blood to the highest bidder -or do I not tell her I’m sick, then leave her and fake my death? What about kids? Do I abandon them like my father did to me? Hell, what if there’s a chance they could be born with this disease? Can I risk condemning a child to this?”

 

Jack lets him rant, knowing he doesn’t have the answers. His heart breaks as Mac continues.

 

“Or do I forget _all_ of that and just become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods so no one even sees me to notice I’m not aging? And no matter _where_ I go, what am I going to do about blood? It’s not like I can walk into some random hospital and ask for a pint a week. Or do I become the monster? Killing to survive?

 

“Then there’s the _extra awesome_ part. You, Bozer, Riley, Matty, anyone and everyone I care about, anyone I _ever_ let in, I get to watch you all grow old and die, while I’m left behind to mourn.”

 

Tears are leaking down Mac’s face that he doesn’t seem to notice. “You asked the long-term effects of this disease and I told you we have no idea. The truth is, none of us live long enough to test it. There are the occasional accidents and homicides of course, but most of us die from lack of blood or by suicide. And I get it, Jack. I do. I understand why most of us take that way out. I’m facing a potential _eternity_ of fear and struggle, and I’m facing it _alone_!”

 

“Stop. Stop right there, buddy. Don’t be talking like that. You are a smart man, Mac. The smartest man I’ve ever met. If anybody can figure all that shit out it’s you. Right now, you’re looking at it all at once. That would overwhelm anyone, but that’s not how life works. You will face each challenge, _one at a time,_ as it comes and you _won’t_ have to do it alone.

 

“We both know Matty will help you as long as she can. 15 or 20 years from now when you have to leave, she can get you set up with a new identity and probably another blood source wherever you decide to go. She’ll also be in a position to select someone to take her place that you can trust when she retires -maybe even give you an entire network of contacts. Bozer, Riley and I are gonna be there for you, too.

 

“You are _not_ alone, brother, and you never will be. You have a huge heart Mac, and people love you. There will _always_ be people willing to help you. Will there be some risk in telling people? Of course there will, but you’ll manage. If you burn through an alias a little faster cuz the wrong person finds out, so what? It’ll suck for a couple months, but _you’ll manage_. Okay?”

 

Mac’s responding smile is still a little sad, but much more relaxed, “Thanks, Jack. I think I really needed to hear that,” He lifts his hand.

 

Jack returns the offered fist bump with a smile, “It’s what I do, partner.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I didn't go too overboard with Mac's science babble for anyone! Let me know what you think of my medical version of vampires! Comments and kudos very welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 3**

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

6 Weeks Later - Jack’s POV

 

Jack spent Mac’s recovery helping other teams when they needed extra manpower. Matty and Dr. Lewis kept Mac out of the field to keep up appearances, but Mac has been fully healed for several weeks and he’s going stir crazy. Jack finally talked to Matty a couple days ago.

 

Now it’s 9 am and he’s heading to his partner’s house to pick him up. Mac had been thrilled when Jack called and told him where they were going. It’s not far, a place just outside LA, but it’s far enough that Mac won’t have to worry about anyone knowing he’d been shot. There are jogging trails so he can go for a run and a fully equipped gym for the guys to work out.

 

Even better, it belongs to the Phoenix and Matty had put out a notice that it was closed for the day. No one would bother them. Jack hadn’t even known the place existed until she suggested it and now he can’t wait to see what his boy can _really_ do. Mac is standing outside as he pulls up and doesn’t even let him get out of the car before he’s throwing his bag in the trunk and dropping into the passenger seat. Jack opted for driving the Shelby Cobra since he knows Mac loves this car with its open top.

 

Mac sighs contentedly as the wind starts whipping his hair in every direction and he turns to Jack, “Thank you _so_ much for arranging this with Matty. I can’t _wait_ to cut loose a little after being cooped up for weeks.”

 

“Hey, it isn’t entirely selfless. I expect to get that sparring match you agreed to!”

 

“Technically, I never agreed to that. I just conceided that it wouldn’t do any good to argue with you.”

 

“Same thing.” Jack says with a shrug.

 

Mac laughs, shaking his head. “Fine, but if either of us get hurt, Matty will kill us both.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine. I take it you’ve been to this place before. Matty said you have a key? You did remember to _bring_ the key, right?”

 

“Yes Jack, I have the key and I go there all the time. It’s closed on Sunday mornings so I can use it without having to worry about anyone seeing me. I can _actually_ work out, not just pretend to.”

 

“Ugh. I can’t imagine having to do that. How boring. What do you want to start with?”

 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to run first, it’s how I usually warm up.”

 

“Whatever you want, man. I’m just here to help your cover story...and see if you can actually beat me in a fight!”

 

Mac grins, “You’re not going to let that go.”

 

“Hell no! I’ve been looking forward to this!”

 

They pull into the lot and park by the door. Getting out, Mac reaches for his bag, but Jack stops him, “I’ll get these, you take off.”

 

Mac raises his hands in surrender, “Alright. The key is in the front pocket and there’s a TV in the employee lounge if you want to just chill until I get back. I’ll probably be about an hour.”

 

“Sounds like a plan. Have fun.” He heads inside.

 

\------------------------------------------------

Mac’s POV

 

Mac jogs off towards the trails in the woods out back. Man, he’s missed being out here! The weather is perfect, too. Warm, but not stifling like some days in Southern California, and there is a nice breeze floating through the trees. Once he’s out of sight, he speeds up, easing into his 3 minute mile pace.

 

He knows these trails like the back of his hand which allows him to focus on other things. He identifies more than a dozen different types of birds singing around him. There are butterflies everywhere and he can hear the frogs around the small lake off to his right. It’s absolutely beautiful.

 

He hears a rustling to his left and he slows, jogging backwards to see what kind animal is out there. But as his eyes scan the forest he doesn’t see anything. He shrugs and turns back to his run.

 

He knows Jack is going to want to talk today. As much as Mac is glad he’s here and finally in on his secret, he knows it’s going to be awkward. Jack’s going to want to test him, watch him. Not that he blames him. No matter how well he’s hiding it, this _has_ to be freaking Jack out at least a little bit.

 

He just wishes he knew how to make it easier. Jack hasn’t asked a single question about the virus since the day he was released from medical. What is Jack thinking? How does he really feel about it? He’s been treating Mac the same as normal, which is fine, but things _aren’t_ the same as normal. Jack’s world just got turned kind of topsy-turvy and he’s acting like that happens every day. As much as it would hurt, he kind of wants Jack to freak out. At least it would be an honest, unguarded reaction.

 

But he doesn’t want to push. Jack will ask questions when he’s ready, he just hopes it’s today. He hates feeling like he’s on pins and needles. If Jack can’t handle the new dynamic and is going to leave, he’d rather just get it over with. The possibility tightens his chest.

 

A branch snaps to his left and Mac stops short, turning with alarm. Something is out there and it’s not small. He listens carefully, eyes scanning the foliage. Nothing. There’ve been reports of a couple of cougars in area. They usually hunt at night and twilight, but he can’t rule it out. He’d better get moving. He turns back to the trail and continues, staying a little more on alert for the remainder.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

Jack’s POV

 

After forty-five minutes, Jack decides he should start warming up so he’ll be ready to workout by the time Mac finishes running. A few minutes after he bumps up the treadmill from a fast walk to a jog, he hears Mac come in and the heavy click as he locks the door behind him.

 

Mac comes around the corner and smiles at him, completely at ease, not breathing hard at all, “Not wearing yourself out are you old man?”

 

“Ha, ha, very funny. I’ve been on here less than ten minutes. I’m just warming up. You wanna lift first or spar?”

 

“I figured we’d save the sparring for after lunch, as long as we don’t overdo it on the food.”

 

Jack turns off the treadmill and they head over to the leg press machine. He starts adding weights for himself as he says, “That reminds me. I found a menu for a sandwich place in your bag with the key. Is that what you wanted to do for lunch? I don’t really know what’s around here.”

 

“I forgot that was even in there. I go all the time when I come here.” Jack gets into position and lifts the weight sled off the lock and starts his first set as Mac continues, “It’s where I get the turkey-avocado sandwich you love so much.”

 

Jack lights up and pauses between reps long enough to respond, “The one with the sprouts and cream cheese?!”

 

“That’s the one.”

 

“Oooo, man! I wondered where you got those! You always said it was a secret!”

 

“I couldn’t tell you about this place. So how would I explain coming all the way out here for a sandwich?”

 

Jack finishes his set, re-locks the sled in place and gets up for Mac to take his turn. He smiles slightly as Mac adds another 100 pounds to the sled.

 

Mac returns the half smile. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Jack.”

 

Is that fear he sees in the young man’s eyes? “I’m just trying to be cool here, man. This thing doesn’t change anything between us, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re being studied, especially by me. It’s...just gonna take a little getting used to, that’s all.”

 

“It’s fine, Jack. Just be yourself. I’d rather have you freak out, or get mad, or laugh, or make jokes, or whatever, rather than try to guess what you think about it.” Mac starts his reps while he’s talking and doesn’t even seem to be trying except a _very_ slight strain in his voice as he pushes the sled back up. “Honestly, I can’t believe you haven’t asked any questions since you found out, other than that first day when I laid everything out for you.”

 

 _Aaahh. So that’s what the fear is about._ He’s worried about his reaction or lack thereof. “I needed to think, process, try to look at the big picture, you know? I didn’t wanna pepper you with questions that would turn out to be stupid and unimportant.”

 

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question, Jack. Not about this. If we’re going to keep working together, then I _really_ need you to be ok with it. If that means giving you every little detail you’re even remotely curious about, then so be it -fire away.”

 

They talk through their entire workout, station to station. Usually about nothing of consequence, sometimes about Mac’s condition, but it’s light and joking, same as always. It feels good to be able to banter as usual, even about something so new. Mac relaxes more and more as they continue, the fear slowly ebbing from his eyes, though not completely disappearing. They order the sandwiches for delivery and take a break when they arrive.

 

“Oh, man I love this sandwich.” Jack mumbles with a mouthful. “Got your french dip again, huh?”

 

“Mmm hmm,” Mac says around his own mouthful.

 

“Oh, hey” Jack says, putting his sandwich down and gulping some Gatorade, “I just remembered something else I wanted to ask you about. The day you got shot, your eyes turned red.”

 

“That’s normal when I drink blood. The tissues in the face are very porous, so the blood seeps into my sinuses and a little bit gets into my tear ducts. So, when I blink, the moisture in my eyes has a red tint to it. It would look exactly the same if blood dripped into your eye. It fades in a few minutes and it doesn’t happen with an IV.”

 

Jack nods, “And why was I in danger when I helped you? You didn’t have any trouble stopping when Dr. Lewis gave you a bag to drink the other day. You even talked to me halfway through. What’s the difference?”

 

Mac looks down, “That’s kind of my fault at this point. It’s only a risk when drinking directly from a living person. The heartbeat is...hypnotic. I lose track of everything else but the sound and feel of it. Supposedly, with practice, I can teach myself _not_ to do that, but I’ve never been willing to risk it after…”

 

Jack knows exactly what he’s thinking, but doesn’t want to let on that Matty told him. “I take it something happened?”

 

Mac won’t look at him, but he nods.

 

Jack isn’t about to push, “I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t -”

 

“I killed someone. A long time ago. I got hurt falling out of a tree. She...she did what you did only…”

 

“Only she didn’t tie you up first.”

 

Mac nods. “She probably thought she’d be able to pull her arm away since I was so little. She was wrong.”

 

“Geez, buddy.”

 

“I was 5. I tried to give the blood back to her, infect her. Thinking back on it, I’m pretty sure I did it right, it just didn’t work. I stayed with her, crying the whole time until my dad got home and found us in the backyard. He was devastated. I don’t really know how he got the authorities to play along, but everyone was told it was an accident.”

 

Jack closes his eyes, “Oh shit, your mom.” He opens his eyes to see a tear slide down Mac’s face before it’s quickly wiped away.

 

“He couldn’t really look at me after that. I think I reminded him too much of her and what happened. It’s probably why he left. That’s why I flipped out when you helped me. If I killed you...Jack, I never would have been able to forgive myself. It would have killed me.” Another tear slides down his face.

 

“I’m so sorry, man. You know what happened to your mom wasn’t your fault though, right? You didn’t ask to be infected.”

 

“Of course not. I was only 3.”

 

“Exactly and you were only 5 when this happened. So cut yourself some slack, man.”

 

Mac wipes his eyes and smiles sadly at Jack.

 

“How _did_ you get infected anyway?”

 

“I don’t remember much of anything and I was never told the whole story, but a woman attacked me in our backyard. I _do_ remember that I wasn’t scared. She spoke to me kindly, probably to avoid alerting anyone in the house that she was there. She told me that my father needed to pay for something he did to her husband. Then she cut my neck...that’s all I remember.”

 

“She attacked a toddler as payback?! That is seriously messed up! Where is she now?”

 

“She got away and as far as I know she was never caught. I don’t even know her name.”

 

“And you have no idea what your dad supposedly did to this woman’s husband?”

 

“None. She didn’t say, and if my grandfather knew, he never told me.”

 

“Damn. That’s-” Jack takes a calming breath, “Damn. Do you remember anything about her? Her face, hair, voice, anything?”

 

“Not really. I remember long dark hair, but I’m not even sure it’s her I’m remembering. I was so young and she was gone before the infection took hold. It could just as easily be one of the police officers or medical personnel I’m picturing.”

 

They eat for a few minutes and Jack wants to say something but isn’t sure how to start. Of course Mac notices.

 

“What is it, Jack?”

 

“Well, I was thinking about what to do if you get hurt again and I think I know a better way for me to help you.”

 

“No, Jack! Don’t you dare!”

 

“Chill out a second and listen to me. If the heartbeat is the problem, then we avoid that. I can put my blood into a cup or water bottle or whatever before I give it to you. That would work, right?”

 

Mac looks stunned, “It should. I never even thought of that.”

 

“That’s because you’ve been so set against it happening _at all_ that you didn’t spend any time thinking about how it _could_ be done. Whereas me? There’s no way in hell I’m going to sit there and watch you die if there is something, _anything_ I can do to help. So, _I’ve_ been trying to figure it out since it happened. The heartbeat thing was the key.”

 

“I still don’t want you to do that, Jack.”

 

“People donate blood all the time. This ain’t any different. Besides, we both know you’re not going to talk me out it. So, just take the compromise.”

 

Mac sighs and shakes his head, but says nothing, taking another bite of his sandwich instead.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Food done, wrappers tossed, table cleaned, they head for the sparring mat.

 

“You sure you want to do this? I don’t want you pissed off at me if you lose.” Mac is smiling, but Jack can see actual worry in his eyes.

 

“Brother, after everything you’ve told me about this virus and after watching the amount of weight you just lifted, I might be more pissed if you _don’t_ beat me. Cuz it means you went easy on me again. I’d rather get my ass handed to me than be coddled.”

 

Mac chuckles, “As long as you’re sure, man.”

 

“Bring it, baby!”

 

They face off and take their stances. Jack doesn’t wait, launching at Mac, trying to catch him off guard. It doesn’t work. Mac sidesteps and easily knocks Jack off balance, pushing him to the floor. Jack rolls once and is back on his feet, fists raised.

 

Jack takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Okay, I’m gonna suggest something, but I want you to promise me you’ll let me finish before you react.”

 

They circle each other as Mac eyes him anxiously. “I’m not going to like this, am I.”

 

Jack throws a punch and Mac blocks. “Just promise to hear me out.”

 

Mac slowly nods in agreement, and gazes apprehensively at the man who has become family on so many levels.

 

“I’m going to ask you to infect me.” Jack hardly has time to register the movement before Mac’s fist connects with his jaw. _Holy shit! He really has been holding back!_ Stars explode through his vision as he struggles to keep his feet beneath him, “Whoa! You said you’d let me finish!”

 

He just manages to dodge the next punch. “I don’t mean now!  Not today or tomorrow or even next month!” Mac backs off just a little, his face livid. “I want you to wait. Wait until that moment when death is _already_ knocking on my door.”

 

Mac throws another punch, but he’s too distracted and Jack is able to spin him, getting behind him and wrapping an arm around his neck, pulling him backwards and momentarily off balance.

 

Jack continues, “Whether it’s in the field because of a bullet like what happened with you or if I’m 90 years old, literally on my deathbed just waiting to die.” Mac shifts his feet, trying to ease the arch of his back. “That way, if it doesn’t work, the difference is only a matter of minutes or days at most and probably with a lot less pain.” Another shift. “I’ve told you before, I ain’t afraid to die, I just don’t want it to be painful.”

 

Mac’s elbow connects with Jack’s ribs and he doubles over, loosening his hold on Mac as the younger man bends forward, tossing Jack over his hip. Landing flat on his back, Jack rolls just in time to avoid Mac’s foot coming down on his stomach, and he’s up, circling again.

 

“But if it _does_ work? Man, you don’t have to be alone, _ever_ . Neither do I.” Jack throws two quick punches, one low, one high. Mac dodges both like he isn’t even trying. “And we can figure out how to survive _together_ , like we’ve always done.” A kick to Mac’s side is blocked with one hand as if his leg is a feather. “Think of all the places we could see, we could live. Think of all the history we could witness, the adventures we could have! Plus, _I don’t have to die!_ ”

 

“When I leave California, I’ll probably have to fake my death. If I infect you and you come with me, you will too.”

 

“I’m aware of that.”

 

The kick comes out of nowhere and Jack is doubled over again, clutching his side. Mac is shaking his head absently, now looking more sad than angry. Jack puffs out a breath as he stands straight again. “I may not be _afraid_ to die, Mac, but that doesn’t mean I _want_ to. Even more, I don’t have to die knowing I’ve left you behind!” Jack’s voice breaks on the last word, tears instantly fill his eyes. “God, that hurts just to say it.” He takes a shuddering breath and keeps going. “I don’t want to leave you, man. _Please_ , at least give me the _chance_ to stay.”

 

That’s it. There’s nothing more to say, so he waits, practically watching the gears turn in Mac’s head. Mac has completely dropped his guard, arms by his sides. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”

 

“Of _course_ I don’t. No one can. That’s not the point.”

 

“Have you thought about your family? They won’t have a body to bury and you’ll have to watch all of _them_ die. I know you, Jack. I know how much your family means to you. You’d still be alive, but you’d never be able to see them again. That’ll hurt you more than anything.”

 

Jack looks down sadly, all thoughts of their sparring match forgotten. “I gotta admit, I’m not thrilled about that part, but if we’re faking our deaths, we’ll have time to plan, set things up, maybe even say goodbye...in a way.”

 

Mac shakes his head, “You can’t say goodbye, Jack. They’d get suspicious.”

 

Jack brushes that off with a wave of his hand. “Nah, I already got a couple of letters written. _If you’re reading this, then something’s happened and I’m gone._ That kind of thing. I’ll write more.”

 

“I didn’t know you’d done that.” It seems to make Mac even more sad. Jack ducks his head to catch Mac’s eyes, “Sorry, I shouldn’t really be surprised. It’s just,” he pauses, “the idea of _you_ preparing for - ”, Mac closes his eye, releasing a slow breath and shaking his head.

 

“I’ve always known, Mac. I was career Army, Special Forces at that. Then CIA, now covert ops. I’ve always known there’s a heavy chance I’ll be making a rather _abrupt_ exit from this world. I wanted to be sure the people I love got to hear from me one last time. One last chance for me to say things that always feel too mushy in person, or things I just didn’t have the _guts_ to say. And a chance to _apologise_ for choosing this life.”

 

Mac’s expression turns to confusion.

 

“It’s a good life, don’t get me wrong. I mean, I know I ain’t perfect and I’ve made mistakes, some of ‘em huge. For the most part though, I’m _proud_ of the life I’ve lived. But I know what I’ve put my family through -all the time away, them worrying and _knowing_ I’m getting hurt, waiting for that knock on the door and some guy in a uniform to tell them I’m gone, but never getting to know what happened to me because it’s classified, maybe not getting a body back to bury. I always felt I owed them something. Hell, I owe them a whole lot more than a stupid letter, but I know I can’t realistically do more.”

 

Mac’s face is blank, just staring. Jack takes a deep breath and puts a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Just promise you’ll try, Mac. If I’m gonna be dead anyway, what’s the harm in trying?”

 

A plethora of emotions cross Mac’s face as he considers. Pain and fear, a flash of happiness, anger and confusion, all flicker through his eyes before sadness takes over, along with something dark that Jack can’t decipher. He can only imagine what Mac is thinking. After what feels like forever, but is probably less than a minute, Mac locks eyes with him, “I promise.”

 

Jack let’s out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and pulls Mac to him, wrapping him in a firm hug. “You know I love you, brother.”

 

“I know. I love you, too.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! Kudos are awesome, comments are even better. What questions do you have? What would you like to see in this AU series? If you read this before, do you approve of me re-posting it without the other 2 chapters for now?


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